Dining with the Devilish
by Cassandra Cassidy
Summary: Animated verse: Takes place directly after season 2 episode, "Mission Accomplished." With the Autobots busy delivering Starscream to the higher-ups, Captain Fanzone is left to keep track of a none-too-happy Sari. Genfic.


_Author's Notes: First fic of the new year, and my first fic in the Transformers: Animated section. This was a very belated anniversary gift for LoverofSilverHairedBishies which is now going up for public consumption._

_This takes place directly following the season 2 episode, "Mission Accomplished"._

_Disclaimer: They're not mine and I'm not making any money._

_Hope you enjoy!_

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**Dining with the Devilish**

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Captain Fanzone hated machines. If it were up to him, they wouldn't rely on them for _anything_, especially not anything important. When the Cybertronians showed up, it was like waking up from a bad dream to find a nightmare in the waking world.

It was a lot easier to hate Earth's machines, though. The thing he hated most about Earth's machines was that they had no souls, no emotions, no anything, and yet people trusted them with things like enforcing the law and educating children. But these Autobots… they _did_ feel. They had emotions and could make judgments based on intelligence rather than just a series of buggy programs.

He was glad they were on his side.

But those Decepticon things were not, and _that_ was a Very Big Problem. And even though Fanzone had put himself out in harm's way alongside the Autobots – and that little girl! What were they thinking?! – he'd be lying if he said that those giant death-bots didn't scare him senseless. But it was _his_ city to help defend, after all, and help defend it he would.

And now, here he was, seated safely in the driver's seat of his very non-sentient car. The battle had passed, and they'd all miraculously made it out with minimal damage. The Autobots had even disabled and detained one of the enemy robots.

His attention shifted momentarily to the girl in his passenger seat. Sari had wanted to ride with – in? – Bumblebee, but with that Decepticon in their custody, the Autobots hadn't wanted to risk it.

"Would you sit down, already?" he asked her. "And put your seatbelt on!"

This was about the sixth time he'd uttered this command, but Sari remained standing, clutching the armrest as she tried to stay balanced. Her eyes were fixed on the Autobots, who were driving on a road adjacent to the one he was careening down himself.

"Look, Sari—"

"Leave me alone, okay?!" the girl snapped. "You're not my dad!"

Fanzone winced. But he was a cop; he wasn't about to back down from an eight year old girl.

"Maybe not," he said, "but I _am_ the adult here. Your 'Bot friends left you in my custody, and you're breaking the law by riding without a seatbelt on, so buckle up!"

"Laws don't apply to non-existent people," she bit back, standing on tiptoe as the Autobots disappeared for a moment under an overpass.

"Non-existent people can still end up in the hospital if they end up flying through the car windshield."

"FINE!" Sari finally relented, plunking down heavily in the seat and belting herself in. "Happy now?"

"No," Fanzone deadpanned honestly.

They continued on in silence, following the Autobots from a distance, until a static-filled transmission came through.

"Captain Fanzone? This is Optimus Prime."

"I hear ya," he responded.

"If it's not too much to ask, would it be possible for you to take Sari someplace to refuel? Bulkhead informs me that we don't seem to have anything back at base that she can consume for energy…"

Fanzone raised an eyebrow.

"You want me to take the kid out to dinner?"

There was a pause, then: "I think so; yes."

"All right, but you 'Bots owe me big-time."

"Thanks, Captain. Over and out."

"Yeah, yeah," Fanzone muttered, stifling a sigh as he closed the connection.

Sari was staring sullenly out the window.

"You got something in mind?" he asked her.

She maintained a stony, pouting silence. Fanzone gnashed his teeth.

"Fine. My call, then."

* * *

After a brief scuffle with his car, which didn't like to shift gears properly in its banged-up state, Fanzone managed to park outside his favorite eatery. It was a local deli by the name of Zingerland's, and the staff was entirely human. As far as he was concerned, the place could do no wrong.

He got out of the car, wrestling the misshapen door into a position resembling closed, and waited for Sari to follow suit.

And waited.

And waited.

The girl remained rooted to the seat, arms crossed as she scowled at the dashboard.

He took a look at his watch; it was nearing 5:00 in the evening.

"Get a move on, kid. This place gets real crowded at rush hour."

"You told me to sit down and buckle up," the girl said in a sweet-and-sour tone.

"Yeah, well now I'm telling you to come eat dinner. Are you always this disobedient, or am I getting special treatment?"

Sari gave an indignant huff, finally giving up and exiting the vehicle.

"We should've gone to Burger Bot."

Fanzone stalked to the deli's entrance, about-facing to hold the door for his ungrateful charge.

"Yeah, well you snooze, you lose, kiddo. We're already here."

The girl skulked inside and he followed after her, catching the eye of one of the waitresses. The woman smiled in recognition.

"Hey there, Captain. Will it be the usual?"

"Not just yet," he said. "Gonna need two seats today."

The woman noticed Sari, who was eyeing the rotating dessert case.

"Ah ha. Booth or counter?"

"Booth," he said.

"Counter," Sari said at the same time.

At Fanzone's glare, she added, "You picked the site; I pick the seats!"

"This is why I hate kids," he groused as the waitress hid a grin and led them each to a stool. She set a menu in front of Sari, then looked questioningly at Fanzone.

"_Now_ I'll take my usual," he affirmed.

Sari was obviously trying not to look too intrigued by the menu choices. She also kept stealing glances in his direction, which quickly became unnerving.

"What?" he asked, catching her again.

"Nothing!" she said quickly. "Nothing at all…"

After a few more surreptitious glances, though, Fanzone'd had enough.

"Doesn't look like nothing," he said.

Sari had the decency to look abashed. She fidgeted in her seat, swinging her legs, then blurted to the waitress, who'd been waiting patiently, "I'll have the usual, too."

Fanzone blinked. The kid didn't have a usual. Unless she meant _his_ usual...

"You don't even know what it is."

"So? If you can eat it, I'm sure I can."

The waitress gave him a shrug, then went into the kitchen to relay their orders, leaving the unlikely pair alone as the evening rush began filing in.

Sari's stomach growled loudly. The glare she cast down at it put Meltdown's acid sludge to shame.

"When's the last time you ate?" Fanzone asked.

"Had scrambled eggs before The Big Jerk kicked me out this morning..."

"Those friends of yours couldn't find you lunch?"

Sari gave a short laugh.

"Oh believe me; they tried. But our ideas of 'food' aren't exactly the same."

"Why didn't they just take you to Burger Bot or something?"

"Um, hello? No money!" Sari said, throwing her empty hands in the air for emphasis.

Fanzone frowned. He hadn't really thought of it before, but now it seemed pretty obvious. Robots didn't have money, and Sari had been completely severed from her father's accounts. They may have been able to put a roof over her head, but they weren't exactly in a good position to keep her fed.

Sari's eyes suddenly widened, and with a knowing smirk tugging at his mouth, Fanzone turned to see their waitress coming toward them, two identical, humongous sandwiches wobbling precariously atop the tray she carried.

Rye bread piled high with pastrami and swiss cheese, with horseradish and the deli's special sauce, and a pickle on the side… the sandwich of kings. Or at least of police force Captains.

"How do you _eat_ this thing?" Sari asked in disbelief. "It's as big as my head!"

"The best kind of sandwich is an extremely huge, extremely messy sandwich," Fanzone quipped. "Grab hold however you can and use your teeth."

She gave him a look that spoke volumes about her opinion of his intelligence at that particular moment, but he chose to return his attention to his dinner. Grabbing the hefty stack of bread and its fillings, Fanzone opened wide and took the best bite he could manage. Said bite only made it about halfway through from top to bottom.

Fanzone began the labor-intensive task of chewing his food, lifting his gaze to discover that Sari was lifting her copy of his sandwich with a look of determination.

Then she buried her face in it.

He managed not to laugh aloud. He was fairly certain that she'd gotten more of it on her nose, cheeks, and chin than actually in her mouth, but as she swallowed, she looked quite pleased with herself. The kid certainly had the right idea, and she seemed to be in a better mood now that she had found something to turn her attention away from her admittedly lousy situation.

"This," she said reverently, "is _so_ much better than motor oil and bunny rabbits."

Fanzone gave her a long, level stare.

"They cooked you a rabbit?"

"Oh no," Sari said. "It was very alive, and it hopped off the second I looked at it."

And she ripped another chunk out of her sandwich.

Fanzone could only blink at her, dumbfounded.

"Let me guess – this is why you hate machines?" she asked.

"Something like that," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief as he resumed eating.

"They're not all _that_ bad," Sari slurred, her mouth full.

He gave her a dirty look – for two reasons – and she swallowed before continuing.

"Really. They're trying really hard to help and to learn about Earth. It just… kind of takes a lot of trial and error."

"Yeah? Well they've sure got a lot to learn about taking care of a human kid. As for their 'trials' and 'errors,' those are making me work overtime, wrecking half the city, endangering the population, and costing the government a whole lot of money."

"I am _so _sick of listening to people whine about _money_!" Sari said, tearing at her sandwich savagely. "Issaw ammbob kerrobow!"

"What?"

"It's all anybody cares about! Nobody cares whether or not my dad is even alive, they just care about how much it costs to look for him!"

Her words hit like a backfiring engine, and Fanzone knew from many engine backfirings that what was to follow would not be good.

Sure enough, the moment the words left her mouth, Sari's eyes filled with tears.

"We're still looking, kid," he said uncomfortably. "It's not like we've given up."

"It's not like it's high on your priority list, either," she retorted, sniffling.

"Hey. Just because it's not high on Porter C. Powell's priority list doesn't mean it's not on anyone else's," Fanzone said pointedly.

Sari looked unconvinced, so Fanzone played the only card he had left.

"What do you say we finish up here, go get ourselves a good night's rest, and then you and I'll go patrolling. We'll widen our search radius, and see if we can't find where those Decepti-con-artists are hiding."

Sari looked up at him, blinking wetly.

"You mean it?"

He handed her a napkin, and she wiped the mess off her face.

"Sure, kid. We'll start first thing in the morning."

"…Can Bumblebee come?"

Fanzone could see the carnage now. He grimaced. But Sari looked pretty miserable, and Fanzone wasn't as mean as he'd sometimes like people to think.

"I guess so…" he relented finally.

Sari's tears vanished as if on cue.

"Yippee!" she cried, and dove back into her sandwich with relish, getting quite a bit of actual relish on her face in the process.

Fanzone shook his head with a long-suffering sigh before returning to his own sandwich.

Tomorrow was going to be a very trying day.

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_End notes: Zingerland's is a rather poor play on Zingerman's, the actual famous deli in Michigan. YAY, MAKING THINGS UP AT THE SPUR OF THE MOMENT!_


End file.
